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The Last Word is my kind of drink. Aromatic, sharp and provocative, it outlines the type of classy cocktails I adore.

Like many of history’s finest swills, the Last Word reads plain on paper. When painted precisely, however, it smacks with a delicate power that uncovers its quiet popularity. Perfumed by the witchery of green Chartreuse, rounded equally by gin’s juniper bite and the bitter cuff of maraschino liqueur―all electrified with the cut of fresh lime juice―as brief as the Last Word’s recipe card may be, this jade looker is no modest sip.

Some garnish with fresh herbs, some instead trim with a complimenting slice of cucumber or wedge of citrus, however, most simply sink in a Luxardo or brandied cherry. The Last Word can be served up and proud, or humbly, washed over ice. Want to, dare I say, soften its might? Opt for a drip of simple syrup or agave.

Feeling moody? Substitute the gin with a fiery mezcal by ordering La Ultima Palabra, one of my favorite alterations. Or, have your barman make you the Last Word’s most well-known sibling the Final Ward, a rough, handsome sip that utilizes the distinct spice of rye whiskey in place of gin’s piney familiarity.